Page 21 of Speak from the Heart

“Jess, I’m not saying you don’t communicate to her, but don’t you want to communicate with her?”

“I do talk to her,” I snap, turning my head back to her.

“I know, but don’t you want her to respond? Answer back to you?”

What. The. Fuck. Of course, I want her to answer me! I grip the book she holds out, attempting to tug it from her. I want to throw it across the room and tell her to mind her own damn business. Katie and I are doing fine as we are. We’re doing the best I can do.

“Just stay out of our business,” I growl.

“I’m only in your business because I care about Katie. And you.” While the intention was well-meaning, I don’t read anything deeper into those words. Emily holds tightly onto the book, and we struggle for control of it. She grips the edges near the bottom while I pull at the top. Back and forth, we battle like a tug-of-war.

“You’re so pushy,” I snap.

“You’re so stubborn,” she says.

“Don’t act like you know anything about us,” I stammer, still tugging at the book.

“I’m not trying to act any way, but this could help.”

“We don’t need help.” My voice rises, the tone deepening.

“Everyone needs help.”

“Oh, yeah? Like you and your nana?”

She gasps. I’ve gone too far, just like her. She hasn’t released the book yet, but I imagine she’s the one who’d like to claim it—and knock me over the head with it.

“If you’d only be open-minded,” she groans, her voice dropping as we continue to fight for the book.

“I stay closed up for a reason.”

Her eyes leap to mine. I can’t believe I’ve said what I said. She stills as if she’s finished with our skirmish, but she’s pissed me off. I yank at the book with more force than necessary, and it easily comes free. She had to have relinquished it because I stumble back. I slam the book on the bookshelf to my side and step closer to her, ready to lay into her.

I don’t need her advice.

I don’t want her help.

I don’t need anything from her.

But my mouth has a different plan, and my hands have a will of their own because they reach for her jaw and then my lips crash against her mouth.

She stiffens under me as I suck at her, willing her to fight back. She responds quickly, opening for me. My tongue dives forward, sweeping against hers with the force of my fury, which abruptly sputters and wanes with the flutter of her tongue against mine. I drink her in like I’m a thirsty man, and I am. I’m dehydrated to the point my heart is shriveling within my chest. I’m desperate for her kind of sweetness. That which is more powerful than any alcohol. That which is more thirst-quenching than sex. Her lips against mine is the most potent drink I’ve ever had, and I’ll never get enough.

Suddenly, I realize what I’m doing.

I’m kissing the temporary girl. The woman who won’t stay. The one only passing through town.

Abruptly, I pull back, and Emily follows, her lips still puckered. Her eyes closed.

“Why’d you do that?” she asks as her lids slowly open and reality hits. Her bright eyes widen. “Why’d you kiss me?”

She rolls her lips inward like she wants my kiss off her lips.

“I did it to shut you up,” I counter, offering a small lie to cover the larger truth. Because from the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted to kiss you. Because those rosy lips look like candy, and I wanted a taste. Because just like my daughter, I’m drawn to you when I shouldn’t be.

She huffs, her irritation returning us to some semblance of normalcy. I don’t think she cares much for me, and I’ve certainly tried to give her the impression I’m not impressed with her. But I am.

She might not be wrong about the sign language stuff, but I’m not willing to admit it to her.